


Of Cake Pops and Men

by lyricalsoul



Series: Random HiMM Snippets [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dialogue-Only, How I Married Mycroft, M/M, More tags to be added, Random Snippets, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 14:23:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6379738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyricalsoul/pseuds/lyricalsoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes ideas come and they don't really fit in to the main story, or I don't have enough to really flesh it out. However, I do want to share them because sometimes they're funny, and sweet, and just because. </p><p>In no particular order, and don't look for any deep meaning beyond what's written. </p><p>This one is about cake pops and likes and dislikes.</p><p>This one is dialog only, and was written a while back for my dear Edenlost, who helps me with all my crazy ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Cake Pops and Men

**Author's Note:**

> For Edenlost, who encouraged this madness.

"What on Earth is that?"  

"It's a cake pop."  

"I beg your pardon?" 

"A lolly, Mycroft. Made of cake." 

"It’s unnaturally blue. And it’s decorated to look as though it's a groom. At least it appears to be a groom. How revolting." 

"You’re a cake hater, so it figures you’d say that.” 

"I don’t hate cake; I hate fads such as this one. Cake pops, indeed. And on the subject of cake, I think there are far better desserts to be had, if one must indulge. Of the world’s greatest desserts, cake isn’t even in the top twenty-five.” 

“Don’t let Mary Berry hear you say that…” 

“Who?” 

“Mycroft, you have got to start watching telly. You can’t rule the world without a knowledge of pop culture.” 

“I have Andrea for that, thank goodness.” 

“I’m noting that you didn’t deny that you want to rule the world.” 

“Be that as it may, I am still unclear as to why you are here with what amounts to cake on a stick.” 

"How am I even marrying you?" 

"I had the same thought."

"Yeah?" 

"Oh, don’t look at me like I’ve kicked your puppy. It was merely a fleeting thought that was quickly banished. What are you doing with a cake lolly?" 

"If I’m still marrying you, your mum says we’re having them at the do.” 

"You are marrying me, and we most certainly are not having those things anywhere near our reception.” 

"Don't get all high-handed with me, mate. You go and tell your mum we're not having them. I'm not going anywhere near her suite again. There's all kinds of foods they're tasting, place settings, tablecloths... your mum is in her element, ordering folks about, going on about music and sea breezes and tents and shades of blue. Your poor dad looks like he's about to go for a walk in the ocean, and Andrea is sighing enough to send off a fleet of tall ships." 

"Yes, Mummy can be rather enthusiastic when she's planning an event. I'll speak to her." 

"Good luck with that. Every time someone tries to get a word in, she starts on about canapes, and seasonal fruit." 

"Oh, I know from experience. She means well…”

“I know. I understand her enthusiasm, since it’s not every day that your spinster son gets married.” 

“That’s insulting, Gregory.” 

“Mycroft, you’re on the back end of your forties. If you were a bird, you’d most definitely be a spinster. A cute one, but still…” 

“And with your two marriages, what are you?” 

“Looking for the right one to come along and love me the right way.” 

“A tart, more like. Flitting from bird to bird, breaking hearts.” 

“If you’re going to be mean, I’ll take my cake pops and go have a beer with Kirby.” 

“I think it’s time that Kirby advanced his career. I think he’d be perfect for the that cook’s position aboard the ice cutter Caledonia…” 

“Aren’t you petty.”

 “You started it.” 

“Childish, too.” 

“You do this to me. You’re worse than Sherlock.” 

“Again, with the insults. However, in the spirit of being the bigger person, I’m willing to ignore you, and get back to our original topic. What dessert would you prefer to have?” 

“The possibilities are endless. We could have a lovely crème brulee. Or perhaps a trifle –” 

“A wedding trifle?” 

“It sounds horrid when you say it.” 

“Ta.” 

“I meant that in the best possible way, Gregory. We could have tarts, or profiteroles. Or no dessert at all.” 

“Your mum has decreed that we’re having cake pops, so you’re just pissing up a rope.” 

“How crass.” 

“And you’re stuck with me, Mr. Holmes, so get used to it.” 

“I am trying, but it is admittedly difficult.” 

“Not really liking your tone…” 

“I meant that in the best possible way, Gregory.” 

“Right.” 

“I would be honoured to eat, ah, cake pops with you.” 

“Have a taste, then.” 

“Ah… the element of surprise, would be, ah…mmph.” 

“So?” 

“…it’s… ah… sweet. And not cake. Dear lord, what in god’s name is in that thing? Oh, god… I’ll never get that icing off my tongue…” 

“You’re such a priss, Mycroft. It’s just a dessert. Stop doing that with your tongue.” 

“I need water, Gregory.” 

“You need your head examined, you berk. You’re acting like I’ve given you poison.” 

“You may as well have done. Oh, god…” 

“Mycroft.” 

“I’m sorry, Gregory, but that is awful. I’ll have to tell Mummy to find something else.” 

“Can’t be all that bad. Let me… oh, well… that is sweet. Bloody hell, that’s awful. What are these crunchy things, and why does it taste like mushy peas?” 

“You made all that fuss, and hadn’t deigned to taste it? How typical of you.” 

“You’re going to have to tell your mum we’re not having this. It’s horrible.” 

“At last, something we agree on. What would you like instead… oh, wait, let me guess… a cake.” 

“Yes. It’s easy to get, and will be less messy than dishing up a serving of trifle.” 

“Fine. I’ll just ring Mummy… Mummy, hello… yes, I did get the ah, cake pop. It was dreadful… dreadful, I said… I’m not being contrary… Gregory didn’t care for either… well, yes… he would like a cake… no… he doesn’t care much for chocolate… no… no… Gregory, will you stop doing that… no… white with…Gregory, what say you?" 

“Raspberry. That way, it’ll be like a trifle.” 

“Gregory is disappointed that we’re not serving trifle, so let’s make it white with raspberry, Mummy. I’m sure Andrea has resources… absolutely not… use the… you will not… I’ll advise Father about the… I prefer the term ‘opportunist’, if we’re resorting to labels…how crass… yes, as I thought… you can have carte blanche with everything else, then… yes, yes… shameful, I know… talk later, Mummy…” 

“You’re blackmailing your mum?” 

“Blackmail is such an ugly word, Gregory. And only to the extent that she believes I’m blackmailing her. Father already knows her secret. It is to my advantage that she doesn’t know he knows.” 

“Shameful isn’t the word.” 

“It got you your cake, so hush.” 

“And you’ve given her carte blanche for the rest of it. If this cake pop is any indication of how bad it can be, we’d better have a look at what she’s planning before we end up with yorkies on a stick or fish and chips in a cup.” 

“Mummy tastes are rather eclectic. A weather eye should be kept…” 

“At last, something we agree on.” 

“Oh, we agree on many things, my dear Gregory, but you prefer to be contrary.” 

“So do you.” 

“My point, exactly.” 

“Well, I can’t wait to marry you. To see you in a lovely tuxedo, looking all posh and fancy. Getting me going, just thinking about it.” 

“Clear your mind of those lustful thoughts this instant Gregory Lestrade. We most certainly are not getting back in that bed, nor are you doing… that ‘thing’ you’re considering, no matter how quickly you’re of a mind to finish. The tailors are due in thirty minutes, and I’ve just gotten back on an even keel… stop looking at me like that… and get your hand away from my… mmph….” 

“Oh, you’ve got soft lips, Mycroft. Just begging to be kissed… sucked… wrapped around my co – mmm… that’s bloody… mmm…” 

“Ah, the perfect way to shut you up… don’t mark me, Gregory, or people will… oh, well, I suppose it won’t hurt below the collar…” 

“Is that your mobile, Mycroft, or are you happy to see me?” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“Your mobile is vibrating, love…” 

“You are quite the distraction, Gregory…  oh, dear… come on, we’ve got to go.” 

“What is it?” 

“Mummy’s asking how I feel about a ‘street fair’ theme, and Andrea’s texting me about something called ‘hot wings’ and is wondering if you’d mind a magician.” 

“How am I marrying you again?” 

“Too late to back out now. Don’t dawdle… hopefully, your erection will subside in the lift...Well, one hopes..."

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> No offense to lovers of cake pops! I just happen not to like them. I do love cake, though, and trifle and desserts. 
> 
> This bit takes place after the afternoon snog in Chapter seven, and before the next bit. 
> 
> More snippets to come. If you liked this and would like to see others, let me know! Comments are love.


End file.
